


Midnight on the Promenade

by NervousAsexual



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 06:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11156130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NervousAsexual/pseuds/NervousAsexual
Summary: A photo of Quark flutters out of his wallet, without prior knowledge of it being there.





	Midnight on the Promenade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snoozlebee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snoozlebee/gifts), [spacebubble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebubble/gifts).



The Promenade stood empty in the dimmed lights. Although Odo had never successfully lobbied for a curfew, it seemed that even the most aggressively sleepless of the station's residents had to go home eventually.

All of them, except, of course, for Odo.

He still had a good two and a half hours before it was time to regenerate and a sizable amount of reports and logs to write in the meantime.

He had dismissed the other officers who were meant to staff the security office in the interim. He was not especially tired. What could possibly come up that he could not handle?  
The answer, as of yet, was nothing. The cells were empty for the night. He had yet to see a single resident make their way across the Promenade. Even Quark's seemed to have closed quite early.

Odo frowned in the general direction of the bar. Not that that had ever stopped Quark from getting in trouble before.

But, he decided, turning away, he would deal with any Quark-related catastrophes if and when they popped up. For now he had a log to draft on the theft at the jumja stick kiosk.

"Commence Station Security log, Stardate 23455.01. Alenis approached me this evening regarding the theft of three jumja sticks within the past hour, and also to tell me that she thought it very rude how she was not included in, quote, ['the psychological torturing of that smelly little bartender that time you got a hat.'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10899975) By bartender I assume she meant Quark, and by hat..."

Odo's mind wandered to the bartender in question. He'd been spending less time on Quark's case lately. Much as he enjoyed emerging from the shadows or an innocuous shape just as Quark did something off-color, he was simply too busy. A freighter filled to the brim with House-less Klingons was taking an extended shore leave at the station, and Prophet's knew everything they did turned into a bat'leth swinging contest. But although their antics had reached every other shady place on the station, from Garak's tailor shop to Servo's Used Robots, there had not yet been an incident involving Quark.

"Where was I? The jujma theft. Right. The obvious answer was that the theft was carried out by Jake Sisko and Nog, but why, then, would they steal three, as opposed to two or four? Sharing is not something I expect of Nog. The working theory is that they have enlisted a third troublemaker. But who?"

His head drooped into his hand and he found himself staring out onto the Promenade. Quark could be getting up to anything in the meantime. Perhaps he'd better swing by the bar, just to be safe... but no, he had too much work to do alone.

He was picking up the threads of the jumja theft case when the silence of the station was broken by heavy running footsteps and something rushed by his door.

"Stop!" he shouted, jumping to his feet. "No running on the Promenade!"

The footsteps didn't stop so he took off after him.

The Promenade remained dim, all but the emergency lights cut off. Strange, he thought, swinging wide through the office door. Generally the motion sensors would switch the standard lights on. He would have to bring it up with Chief O'Brien in the morning.

The footsteps hurried up the stairs ahead of him and he saw a beige, vaguely humanoid-shape on its way up. He took the steps two at a time, up to the second level, and shifted more of his mass into leg length. He gained easily on the humanoid and grabbed them by the shoulder.

"No running on the..."

The humanoid glanced back at him, saw his face, and smiled.

"Oh," Dr. Mora said to him. "Hello, Odo."

"Dr. Mora." They stopped moving and stood at the rail over the Promenade. Odo looked around. Still the Promenade was empty. "I thought you were back on Bajor."

"I was." Dr. Mora fiddled with his earring. It glinted in the low light. "Now I am here."

He did not remember seeing the doctor's name on any of the ships' manifests. "What are you doing here? Why were you running?"

"Was I running?"

"Yes, I could hear you downstairs."

"Hm. I don't recall. Odo?"

He would have to speak to the captain, investigate this further. "Yes, doctor."

"Would you happen to have a few bars of latinum on you?"

"I don't carry currency on me."

"Are you sure? Check your wallet."

Odo sighed irritably. "I don't have a wallet, doctor."

"No?" Dr. Mora tugged at his earlobe and Odo wondered why he wasn't wearing an earring. Strange.

"No. How would I carry it? I don't have pockets."

"Why don't you check, Odo."

He gestured at his waist but when he looked down there was a pocket. How long had he had pockets? He slipped a hand inside and removed a slim wallet.

 "Let's see what's in it." Dr. Mora took a step closer. Odo couldn't help but notice that the ridges on his nose were less defined.

"What's wrong with your..."

"Open the wallet, Odo."

Without thinking he opened the wallet and a piece of paper slipped out and fluttered down to the floor. He reached down and picked it up and saw that it was a photo. A photo of a wrinkled alien with big ears and sharp teeth.

A photo of Quark.

"I don't know how that got in there," he said. Dr. Mora only looked doubtful. "I don't usually have pockets. I never have wallets, and I definitely would never have a photo of Quark." He glanced down at the ground floor of the Promenade, thinking that perhaps this was some kind of trick and perhaps Nog was waiting around a corner, giggling, or maybe Quark in his bar was having a laugh at his expense. He looked back up and found himself nose to nose, not with Dr. Mora, but with himself.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Looking for something?"

For the first time in a long time Odo found himself at a loss for words.

"Who are you?" he managed at last.

Odo looked down at himself. "I thought that would be obvious. Why don't you hand me the picture, Odo."

It wasn't a question but he tightened his fist around the photo. "I don't think so."

"You don't think so. Ah, dear. We always have to do things the hard way, don't we?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to slip the photo back into his pocket, but the pocket was gone. In fact, looking down at himself he barely recognized the clothes he usually formed.

"I only ask once before I take. Give me the photo."

He reached up to tug at his earlobe and found instead a Bajoran earring.

Odo made a grab for the picture but he turned and ran instead, over to the stairs near the observation window. He caught a glimpse of himself reflected in the window, but instead of his own face he saw a familiarly ridged nose and a pair of eyes he would have known anywhere.

Instead of his face he saw Dr. Mora's.

He ran from Odo, up the stairs, heavy footsteps ringing out over the Promenade. But even though he ran he knew he could not escape...

 

And suddenly Odo sat straight up at his desk, solidifying his slightly-running features, as a hand crashed down on the desk beside him.

"I said there are Klingons in my bar!" Quark was howling. He looked about as pleasant as ever in his ugliest suit yet.

"Klingons," Odo repeated, his thoughts shrouded in fog. "In your bar."

"That's what I've been telling you! Now I'm all for intergalactic unity but when they're trashing my holosuites and dancing in their undergarments on my dabo tables..."

"There are Klingons in your bar. And you want me to get them out."

Quark growled. "Yes!"

"Right." He got to his feet and they both squeezed through the security office doors. "Er, Quark?"

"What now?"

He felt at his waist but he didn't have pockets and he never had. "Nothing. Let's go."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a clue what I'm doing. Based on [this post](https://ds9shameblog.tumblr.com/post/161602157299/soft-galaxies-quark-is-just-i-love-him-and-have).


End file.
